To Hear You
by Rachel Greenwood
Summary: Sequel to Head Over Feet. It's 13 years later, and Cal and Rose have a whole new set of problems to face. Will they survive family issues, a changing political and social landscape, and the potential resurgence of his worst instincts?
1. Chapter 1

_Berlin 1933_

Rose knew it was late even before she opened her eyes. She felt the difference in the air, in the way the bustle of the morning was over, and sighed. She rolled over, but Cal's arm was tight around her, his chin resting on her shoulder. She shook him lightly. "We overslept," she said.

"Hmm..."

"Cal." She shook him again.

"It's fine," he murmured sleepily.

"Maybe for you, but I should be getting up," she said.

"Why?"

"Because it's almost time for lunch, and that's much too late to still be in bed without a good reason," she said. "Now, kindly unhand me."

"Who says?" He nuzzled her shoulder. "You have nowhere else to be."

"That's not the point. And _you_ have places to be."

"Then what is?" he said, ignoring that last part. He kissed her neck.

"We should be productive. Use our time well," Rose answered. She tried to ignore the way his hand was moving across her leg.

"I can think of no better use for my time than this," Cal said. His fingertips brushed her thigh, pulling up her nightgown.

"I'm sure you can't." Rose's breath caught. His hand kept going. "Nevertheless-" She closed her eyes, sighing, as he found what he sought. "We have responsibilities," she gasped softly.

"Im Moment bin ich nur für Sie verantwortlich." _Right now my only responsibility is to you._

"Sie nennen das eine Verantwortung?" _You call this a responsiility? _Her laugh melted into a groan. "Cal."

"Willst du, dass ich aufhöre? _Would you like me to stop?_

"No," she saidm turning to kiss him.

...

He was late for getting to the office. Late was putting it mildly; in fact, he didn't arrive until well into the afternoon. Some would've said he needn't have bothered going in at all, but Cal felt an appearance was necessary. He didn't give his lateness a second thought. It was his company, wasn't it? He had the right to do as he pleased as long as it remained profitable, and making love to Rose took precedence over everything-maybe even profitability.

That morning, Cal wondererd why he still bothered to go in. It wasn't the first time he'd allowed himself to seriously consider the possibility of just staying home, and despite himself, he had to admit the idea had merit. There were plenty of younger men able to take over. He had more money than they could ever need. Why not give it up? Let the next genertion have a chance?

_Younger men._ His mind always stuck on that. As much as he enjoyed the thought of long, leisurely days and doing exactly what he wanted, whenever he wanted, Cal couldn't see stepping back as anything but admitting his old age.

That was absurd, of course. He was only 52; he was hardly in his dotage, and yet, more and more he found himself dwelling on age. Rose was only 38, the same age he'd been when they'd gotten married. They would never be in the same decade; the 13 year gap between them pretty well took care of that. Had he really once thought it wasn't such a difference?

When he remembered their first engagement it seemed so far away, almost as if it hadn't happened at all. He'd been so _young_ back then, and Rose, well she was practically still a child in comparison. _17_.

Cal knew girls that age were married all the time, though perhaps not so much lately. He hadn't exactly been snatching her from the cradle, and yet, it sounded that way.

He was still a handsome man. He was as fit as ever, maybe even more now. His hair was still thick and black as onyx. His eyes were keen, and his other senses were all intact. Rose still wanted him. That was what really mattered, wasn't it?

Cal smiled as he remembered that morning. He hadn't planned it. He'd had every intention of getting up on time and going about his day, but then there she was, and suddenly everything else just seemed superfluous.

He hadn't felt old then. Not at all. But later, as he hovered on the edge of sleep, doubts crept in. Rose slept soundly, secure in his embrace, but for how long? How long before something happened to him? Before his age finally caught up with him? It would happen all at once; he was sure of that. Oh, it would start small, but it would move quickly, and then what?

Rose wouldn't leave him; she was better than that. She'd still love him, but would want him? Would she truly want to stay together? Even if she never said it, wouldn't part of her wish for a younger, stronger man?

That was advantage Jack would always have. If he were still alive, _he_ wouldn't be worrying about getting old, at least, not yet, and knowing him, he never would. He'd probably approach old age with a grin and call it a new adventure. Besides, he and Rose would be practically the same age. Three years was nothing, especially compared to 13.

And since he was dead, well, Jack would always be enshrined in the bloom of youth. He'd never know the agony of watching his body change-of being _betrayed_ by his body-of being left behind by the rest of the world, almost overnight. And most importantly, Rose would never see him any differently.

...

Rose looked up from her book. "I thought you'd be home late,"she said. She tilted her head up for his kiss.

Cal chuckled. "Disappointed?

"No. Surprised."

He sat down next to her. "I didn't feel like staying any longer."

"Good. Now I won't have to eat dinner alone."

He kissed her again. "Neither will I."

The call came as they were about to head into the dining room. "I'll get it," he said. "You go ahead."

"Alright."

He picked up the receiver. "Hockley Residence."

The voice on the other end was a woman."May I speak with Mr. or Mrs. Hockley?" she asked in professional tones.

"This is Mr. Hockley."

"I'm sorry to call so late, but your files says to contact you immediately if something comes up. I'm from the Behling Agency," she added.

Cal had known without explanation. The calls rarely came now, but for a time they had been fairly common. They'd gone through three adoption agencies over the past four years. So far, nothing had happened. Over and over again they were told there just weren't any children who were "appropriate" for them. Exactly what that meant no-one would say. They weren't full citizens, but their legal status was secure. Rose had been reluctant to part with her American passport, and Cal agreed. This was the country of his boyhood, but the War was still fresh in everyone's mind. He hadn't seen combat, thank God, but he gained a new understanding of just how quickly the political tide could change.

It wasn't a question of money, and as far as Cal was concerned, _any_ questions about their suitability as parents should've been dismissed on that basis. More than once he'd almost brought it up, but Rose's presence stopped him. If she thought they had been given a child because he started throwing money around, she'd probably never forgive him.

Lowering his voice, Cal asked, "Has something come up then?" He glanced toward the door. Rose was well out of earshot, but he couldn't be too careful. There was no need to crush her hopes again.

"Yes, I believe there has," she replied. "Would you and your wife be willing to meet with me tomorrow?"

"Of course."

"Splendid. How is two o'clock?"

"We'll be there. Thank you."

Cal stared at the phone after he hung up. He had to tell Rose. She had every right to know. She deserved to be part of this decision, assuming there was one to be made, and this wasn't another false alarm.

And yet, he hesitated. Would telling her really be fair? Did she need another disappointment like that? The last time one of the agencies called they'd been told to come at once and meet a baby, only to discover once they arrived that its mother had just reclaimed it.

"That's for the best," Rose said, but Cal saw the flash of pain in her eyes. He felt the same pain.

He'd taken her hand. "There will be another."

She nodded. "Yes."

That's what they'd said about having their own children.

At first they hadn't given much thought to their lack of fertility. They were still young; it would happen eventually. And then, about five years into their marriage, it did. Only it didn't last. It was over almost before it began. Cal was startled by how easily he might have missed it. Rose hadn't even told him yet. She tried to hide her sadness, but he discovered her crying.

"It will be alright," he said, taking her in his arms. She buried her face in his shirt. "We can still have children," he went on. "If you want to."

"I do."

And so they'd spent the next few years trying, only to lose three more. "I can't," Rose said after the fourth. "Cal, I can't do this anymore." She shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "It's too hard."

"You don't have to," he promised. He gently cupped her face. "I can't take any more of this either." His voice caught in his throat.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he said. "You haven't done anything wrong." He kissed the tears from her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Ich liebe dich Liebling." _I love you, darling._

"Ich liebe dich," Rose said.

"Du bist alles was ich brauche." _You're all I need._

Gradually life returned to normal. They didn't discuss children. They didn't try for another. Perhaps that's why the fifth time felt different. Rose sense it immediately. There was no way she could know yet, but she did. She gazed at herself in the mirror, a feverish gleam in her blue eyes.

"Rose?" Cal peered at her with concern. "Are you alright? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." She reached for his hands. "Cal, I have something to tell you. Don't be alarmed."

"That's a comforting way to begin." He grinned. "What is it?"

"I'm pregnant."

His eyes widened. "What? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I don't know, but _I know_," Rose said. "I've felt this before, only it's stronger this time."

"But we've been-"

"Maybe it doesn't always work," she said. She smiled hopefully.

Cal couldn't believe his ears. Why now, when they'd decided never to try again? Maybe, he decided, it was meant to be. Maybe it would finally happen for them. "How do you feel?" he asked.

"Fine...Scared," she admitted.

Cal squeezed her hands. "So am I," he said. "But we have each other. Whatever happens, we'll get through it together." He kissed her. "Trust me."

"I do."

This one _would_ be different, Rose told herself. It had to be, for both their sakes.

And it was. One month went by without incident, and then two. After the third Rose breathed a little more easily. Cal remained as supportive as ever, but secretly, he worried. He went to work late and came home early. He hired more staff so Rose would have no reason to ever lift a finger. He brought her books and paintings so she wouldn't need to go out.

"Cal, I can't spend the next five months inside," she pointed out. "I'll go crazy."

"I don't know how else to help," he said.

"You couldn't possibly do more, and I appreciate all of it. I'm as careful as I can be."

"I could carry you around," he offered, half-jokingly.

"Soon I'll be too heavy."

Cal shook his head. "Not at all." As if proving his point, he gently swept her up in his arms. "Easy."

Rose laughed. "You say that now, but just wait."

"I will carry you anywhere, liebling. Always."

By the sixth month, they started to relax. None of the other pregnancies had made it that far, so it had to be a good sign. Cal took to carrying Rose up and down the stairs whenever possible. They stopped accepting invitations. He spent even less time at the office. He paid the staff well-some might've said he overpaid them-but he still didn't trust them to react quickly enough if something happened.

And just as they were settling into the possibility that things might actually work out this time, it happened.

Cal was getting dressed when he heard Rose calling him. His stomach dropped. No. Not now.

He found her on the floor in their room. She'd collapsed. Her skin was chalky, and her feature were twisted in pain. He dropped down next to her. "Rose-" He saw the blood, and suddenly everything became a blur. Later, he would remember picking her up and screaming for help, but he couldn't remember getting her to the hospital or what he said.

His first clear memory was of finding himself in a hard, wooden chair in the corridor. The clock opposite him read four o'clock, but that couldn't be right. They'd only just arrived; it was still morning.

His clothes were stiff. He looked down, and horror washed over him as he saw the blood covering his shirt. It was on his hands as well. He curled them into fists, but he could still see it. Why hadn't he washed them? Or had he? Would it not come off? Did it matter?

Where was Rose? Why hadn't anyone told him how she was doing? Surely someone would have found him by now. Unless there was nothing to tell. Unless it was all over, and he'd been forgotten. A sickening emptiness settled over him.

Rose. His mouth formed the shape of her name, but no sound came out. That couldn't be it. It just _couldn't_ _be._ She'd lost the baby; he was certain of that. But it didn't mean...

It was as heartbreaking as ever, but that's all it was. They'd find a way through it together, just like the other times.

_Unless..._

_What if..._

_You know she's..._

Cal shook his head. "No," he hissed through a clenched jaw. "No. I won't accept that."

He was staring at his shoes when someone finally came. The clock read five fifteen, but it felt so much later. The doctor looked about his age. He wore a grim expression. "Mr. Hockley, I presume?"

Cal nodded dully "How is she?" he asked.

"She'll recover. It will take some time, but she'll be fine."

Cal's voice shook. "She will?"

"Yes. Obviously, the-"

"I know," Cal said. He let out a heavy breath. "I need to see her."

"She's resting."

"I won't disturb her," Cal insisted.

"We should speak privately. Why don't you follow me?"

She was asleep when he finally made it to her room. Cal drew the chair up to the edge of the bed and took her hand. His anger at the doctor's insinuations melted away, leaving only the certainty that in fact, he might've been right.

...

He wouldn't touch her. Rose tried to deny it at first, but that became harder with each day that passed. She couldn't understand why. She was fine physically. Her body had healed completely. Her emotional health was still a bit shaky at times, but overall, she was doing well. Besides, it was difficult to move on when her husband seemed intent on avoiding contact with her. Every time she reached for him he found a reason to pull away. His kisses were perfunctory. It gave Rose a terrible sense of deja vu, only this time the roles were reversed.

He was courteous. He didn't stay out late. He wasn't distracted when they talked, and in fact, in every other way he was as invested in their marriage as ever. Rose almost wished he wasn't. If he were impatient or preoccupied, well, that might point to a cause. It might be another woman, or a problem with his work, but there seemed to be nothing.

Finally, she couldn't stand it any longer. When he kissed her good morning, she held on. She pressed him close, deepening the kiss. Cal drew back, startled. "Rose-"

She kissed him again. He relaxed slightly and wrapped his arms around her. "Rose," he murmured.

"So, you want me?" she said.

"Of course I do."

"Then why don't you act like it?" she asked. "Why won't you come near me?"

"I do."

She shook her head. "No, Cal, you don't."

He looked pained. "Rose, I-I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?" she said. He tried to move away, but she held him fast. "No," she said. "Talk to me."

"It's for the best. I was trying to protect you," he said.

"Protect me from _what_? From _you_?"

Cal held her tightly. His lips brushed hers. "Yes," he said. "I came so close to losing you, liebling. I won't let anything like that happen ever again."

"And you think you have that kind of power?"

"Maybe in some ways," he replied.

Rose shook her head disappointedly. "And you think the best solution is to neither touch me ever again nor tell me why? Cal." She sighed. "I thought we were past this sort of thing."

"When I spoke to the doctor, he told me-"

"Oh, so you had encouragement." She laughed drily. "The two of you decided what's best for me. Well, perhaps next time you'll be kind enough to inform me so I don't have to sit around guessing."

She moved to walk away, but he stopped her. "Rose, I never meant-"

"I know," she said. "But your intentions don't matter. Cal, you didn't talk to _me_. You never even thought to talk to me. You just decided that you knew best." She took a step, bringing him with her. "Let go," she said.

"Rose, please-"

"Let go," she repeated in a soft voice.

He released her. "I didn't want to make things even worse," he said. "I thought if I told you-"

"That I wouldn't be able to handle it? How could you just assume that after all these years?"

"That wasn't it," he said. "It was my fault, but I didn't want to look at you and say it. I couldn't."

Rose stared at him. "What? Cal, are you crazy? How did you even reach such a conclusion?"

"Because that's what they told me the night it happened. If I didn't-if I wasn't-"

Realization dawned on her. "If you left me alone more, these things wouldn't happen. Is that it?" She didn't wait for a response. "I might expect that from a stranger, but you should know better. There are two of us here. I've never done anything I didn't want to."

"But I _felt _like it was my fault," he said. "I've been so afraid of pushing you-"

"Then you should've talked to me!" she cried. "You promised nothing like this would ever happen again. I gave you another chance. I trusted you, and now..."

"I can't expect you to forgive me."

"No, you can't," she said.

The months that followed were long and painful. There were moments when Cal was sure their marriage was over, and he knew he had only himself to blame. He resigned himself to it, but much to his amazement, things slowly began improving.

And now he found himself facing a similar urge to protect Rose. Pretending the phone call didn't happen would be so easy, and wouldn't it be better if he just ignored it? Then again, this time might be different. He couldn't deprive her of the that chance, nor himself for, if he was being truly honest. But maybe he could look into it on his own first? Just in case?

No. He couldn't think that way. Not again. He knew better, and yet, it was more tempting than he cared to admit.

"Cal?" Rose stood in the doorway. "Who was it?"


	2. Chapter 2

"It was the adoption agency." Cal didn't know what he was going to say, but he was relieved to hear the truth. "They want to meet with us tomorrow."

Rose's eyes were pensive. "Did they say why?"

"No. Only that they may have a suitable situation for us."

"They've promised that before," she pointed out.

"Would you rather we didn't go?" he asked.

Rose shook her head. "No, I think we should. It's worth taking the chance."

"Liebling, I don't want you to be disappinted again."

"I can handle it," she said.

"That doesn't mean you have to."

"What about you?" she countered.

"What about me?" Cal said.

"Cal, you have feelings too."

He feigned shock. "Do I?"

"You don't have to hide it," she said. "Not from me."

"I know. But it's still your decision."

"We should go. I'd hate to think we didn't try," she said.

...

The office was just as busy as they remembered, but now it had a slightly worn appearance. The woman who sat across from them was neatly dressed. She had a tired but efficient air. She'd introduced herself as Hedda and apologized for the short notice. "I'm fairly new here," she explained. "And when I was familiarizing myself with the files I noticed several notes in yours about failed placements."

"Yes," Rose said. "We've had a bit of bad luck in the past."

"Well, I'm hoping to change that," Hedda said. "Though I must warn you, these are older children."

"There's more than one?" Rose said.

"Two, actually. Twins. A boy and a girl," Hedda replied. "Would that be a problem? I'd rather not separate them unless I have to."

"No, of course not," Rose said, glancing at Cal.

"It's not a problem," he agreed.

Hedda smiled. "Good. That part's settled then. As for their ages-"

"That doesn't matter either," Rose said.

"Are you sure?" Hedda asked. "Many couples find themselves reluctant to adopt children over five. They're generally considered unadoptable, unfortunately."

"I suppose I can understand that," Rose said slowly. "But I can't say I agree. How old are they?"

"Eight."

"That's not so old," Cal said. He looked at Rose. "Unless you-"

Rose shook her head. "No, I have no objections."

"What do you know about them?" Cal asked.

"Their parents died years ago. They've been living with an aunt who can no longer care for them."

"Don't they have anyone else?" Rose said.

Hedda shook her head. "I'm afraid not. I tried to locate a relative willing and able to take them, but none turned up."

"I'd like to meet them," Rose said. "If I may."

Cal took her hand. "So would I."

"Follow me then."

She led them down a narrow hallway and into a sunny courtyard. About a dozen children were playing. "Wait here," she said. A moment later, she returned with a small set of twins. They gazed up at them with dark eyes. Their black hair fell into thick curls.

Rose's heart leapt. She turned to Cal. "I know," he said, squeezing her hand.

"Frieda, Fynn, I'd like you to meet this nice couple," Hedda said.

Rose dropped to her knees, heedless of what damage the grass might do to her dress. "It's lovely to meet you," she said warmly. "I'm Rose." They regarded her with cautious interest. Their clothes, though clean and well-cared for, were obviously hand-me-downs. They seemed healthy. Their eyes had plenty of spark, and they weren't underfed. "Do you know why we're here?" she went on.

"You're thinking about adopting us," Frieda said.

"Yes." Rose was surprised. "Have you met with many people?"

"A few," Fynn said. "They looked us over and left."

"I see," Rose said. "Well, I have no intention of doing that."

Cal stepped back so he was just out of earshot. To Hedda, he said, "There won't be any sudden decisions regarding our suitabilty, will there? No previously unknown relatives appearing?"

"I can't imagine why there would be."

"We've heard similar before," he said. His tone was matter-of-fact but not cold. "It's been a trememdous disappintment to both of us, but it's been particulaly difficult for my wife." He paused. Choosing the right words was crucial; there could be no implication of a threat or a bribe. He glanced at Rose. She was still engrossed with the children, who seemed to be warming up to her. "I don't intend to see her upset like that again," he said, lowering his voice.

"No, I don't think you'd want to."

"You appear somewhat short of funds," he said, switching to a casual tone. "What a shame."

"I don't suppose you could do anything about that?" Hedda said.

Cal met her gaze. "Perhaps I could."

Rose wouldn't like it if she knew. Donating to the orphanage was one thing, but if she suspected they were allowed to adopt the twins because of it, she'd be devestated.

In the past when the idea crossed his mind Cal had dismissed it on the grounds that Rose would never forgive him. He hadn't intended to make the offer, but when he saw her with the twins, something shifted inside him.

_They're meant to be ours_, he thought. With their black curls, they _could've_ been theirs, and he felt a sharp pang at the thought of the children they might've had together. But he quickly pushed it aside. No sense dwelling. He was needed in the present.

...

The children stayed close to Rose. "You're really keeping both of us?" Fynn said.

"Of course," Rose answered. "Why wouldn't we?"

"The others didn't want to," he replied.

"That was their loss," she said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He smiled slightly. "Would you like to go home now?" she asked, turning from him to Frieda. They nodded. "Alright then," she said.

...

"They'll need new things," Cal said as the car stopped in front of the house. "Why don't the three of you get started on that this afternoon?"

The twins, who had spent the entire journey staring in awe at the car, turned to him. "We have plenty already," Frieda said.

They each possessed a small suitcase containing the bare essentuals. Whether they'd once owned more was unclear, and neither Rose nor Cal wanted to ask just yet.

"Let's see the house first and have lunch," Rose suggested. "I doubt I'm the only one who's hungry." The twins brightened at the prospect of a meal.

Their eyes widened as they took in the house. It was modest by Cal's standards, and in fact, he'd fought hard to convince Rose it wasn't too much.

"What will we do with all of this space?" she'd asked.

"It's hardly any space at all. There's certainly no extra room," he replied. "A kitchen, dining room, an office, library-"

"I don't need a personal library," Rose argued.

"Of course you do. You already own enough books for one. Why not give them a proper home?"

"And the five bedrooms?" she said.

"Guest rooms. Storage. A music room. Children's rooms," he said. "There are any number of uses for them."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Children's rooms?"

"I just thought, maybe there was a possibility..."

Rose smiled and took his hand. "There's certainly a possibility."

Nine years had passed since then, and now he was finally making that dream come true.

"This is all yours?" Frieda said.

"It is," Cal answered. "What do you think?"

"It's very impressive," she said.

Cal laughed. "I suppose it is." He turned to Fynn. "What do you think?"

"You must be very rich," Fynn said.

Cal laughed again. "We are."

Rose gave him a look. "Cal."

"Liebling, it's obvious," he said.

"Why don't you two go on inside?" she said. When the children were gone, she said, "I realize it's obvious, but I don't want them getting the wrong ideas."

"Such as?"

"You know what I meant," she said.

"You don't want them becoming entitled, spoiled, rich children. Is that it?"

"Exactly."

"Being honest about the life we can give them won't do that," Cal said. "I understand your concerns, and I promise not to spoil them." He put his arm around her. "Don't worry, Rose. Everything will be fine. I haven't managed to spoil you yet, have I?"

She grinned. "Haven't you?"

He shook his head. "I haven't even begun to try."

...

They were too overwhelmed by their new surroundings to say much. It was hard to believe it was all really happening, and neither of them were sure how they felt. They weren't unhappy, though they did miss their aunt's house. She wasn't a warm person, but she hadn't been unkind to them, and hers was the only home they remembered. They also didn't quite trust this sudden turn of events.

They both liked Rose right off, but Cal was taking a bit of getting used to. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help being imposing.

"You have to go, don't you?" Rose asked, as they finished lunch.

Cal shook his head. "No."

"Really?" Rose said, surprised. "I thought you were planning-"

"I changed my mind."

"There's nothing you need to take care of this afternoon?" she said.

"There is," he replied. "It's right here."

In fact, there were plenty of things he needed to do at the office, but none of them seemed important anymore.

Rose smiled. "I'm so glad to hear that."

Cal reached for her hand. Turning to the twins he said, "How would you like to see the rest of the house?"

...

"And this will be your room," Rose said.

Frieda let her eyes roam, taking it all in. The room was bigger than any she had ever seen. The bed was large enough for three children, at least. "This is all for me?" she said.

Rose nodded. "And Fynn, yours is across the hall. We can change anything you don't like. The colors, the furniture, anything. Just let me know how you'd prefer things."

"We get to decide?" Fynn said. He and Frieda exchanged glances.

"Wouldn't that be a bit...extravagent?" Frieda asked.

"That's quite a word," Cal said good-naturedly. "And no, it won't be. Don't worry. It's no trouble at all."

"But everything is already so beautiful," Frieda went on. "I don't know how it could be any better."

"Give it some time," Cal said. "You may think of something."

"But we really shouldn't," Fynn said.

"Why not?" Rose asked.

"Well, we..." He faltered. He looked at Frieda.

"Are we worried we won't keep you after all?" Rose asked gently. The twins were silent. "You don't have to worry about that," she said.

"She's right," Cal added. "This is your home now."

"You've been through a lot of changes recently," Rose said. "It's natural to be nervous, but I want you to know you can tell us about it."

There was a pause. "Could I have a rug in my room?" Fynn said.

Cal laughed. "Of course you can."

...

They watched from the terrace while the twins explored the back garden. "It's going well so far," Cal said.

"Do you really think so?"

"Don't you?" he said.

"Yes. I hope so," Rose replied. "They've been through so much, the poor dears. I don't want to overwhelm them."

"You're doing just fine, Liebling." He wrapped his arm around her waist. "They already love you."

"I wouldn't go quite that far."

"I would." He kissed her curls. "Everything is going to be fine, meine liebling," he assured her. "Trust me."

"I trust you, but you can't control the future."

"Can't I?" he said lightly. "I believe you once accused me of trying to cotrol the universe."

"That was a long time ago. I didn't realize you still carried such ambitions," Rose said.

"My ambitions are boundless."

"And what exactly are they?" she asked.

"To make you happy. To help you create this family."

"You aren't just doing this for me, are you?" she asked.

"No," Cal said. "I know how much this means to you, but I want it too. I want us to raise children together."

"Cal, I'm sorry I-"

He put his fingertips against her lips. "Don't Rose," he said. "Don't ever apologize for that."

"But I-"

"No," he said firmly, shaking his head. "You did nothing wrong. I don;t blame you. I've _never_ blamd you. You know that."

"It's almost impossible for me to believe that sometimes," she said.

"That's alright." He kissed her. "I'll be here reminding you."

...

Rose tucked the twins into bed. "If you need anything, I'll be just down the hall," she said. She got the same dutiful nod and "Thank you" from both of them. She left their doors cracked, a silver of light cutting through the darkness.

She hesitated on the stairs, wondering if she should go back. It was their first night. Was it really fair to leave them alone so soon? Rose took a breath, strengthening her resolve. If they needed her, she wouldn't be far way.

She found Cal in his office surrounded by files. He glanced up as she came in. He smiled. "Rose." He held out his arm, drawing her near.

She settled on his lap. "You _did_ have work to do this afternoon, didn't you?" she said.

"There's always work to do," he replied amiably.

"You know what I meant,"

"It's nothing pressing, liebling," he said.

She ruffled his hair. "And yet, here you are."

"I thought I'd try to get ahead. It seemed like a good idea since I'm taking the rest off the week off."

Rose gave him a curious look. "You are?"

"Yes. I thought I'd spend more time with you and the children," Cal explained. "Unless you'd rather-"

"No, I want you here," she said. "I'm just a bit shocked."

"This is an incredible change for us. I shouldn't leave you to adjust alone."

"I agree. It will take a bit of adjusting for all of us," Rose said. "I hope the children feel at home here soon"

"Do they seem uncomfortable?"

"No, not really," she said. "Nervousness is to be expected at first. After all, they met us just this morning."

"And what about you?" Cal asked.

"What about me?"

"What are _you_ feeling?" he said.

"To be honest, I haven't really thought about it. Everything happened so fast," Rose said. "I've just been going along with it."

"Are you happy?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation.

"Good." He brushed a curl away from her face.

"Are you?"

"Yes, I am," Cal said. "I have everything I could ever want and certainly more than I deserve."

"What makes you think that?"

"Rose, we both know I don't deserve you, let alone anything else I have," he said.

"I don't believe that," she said. "It's a rather dangerous game, assigning worthiness to oneself."

"Maybe it is."

"No-one's perfect, Cal," she said.

"Least of all me."

"You aren't so bad," she said.

"Have you lowered your standards?" he joked.

"Not at all," Rose replied. "I see you quite clearly. You have more than you need; we both do, but you're a much better person than you like to admit."

"Thanks to you."

"No." She shook her head. "I didn't make you a better man. I didn't awaken your potential. I didn't push you to do the right thing. _You_ did that. You made choices, and they brought us back together. They brought us here."

Cal kissed her. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Rose."

"Let's go to bed," she whispered.


End file.
